Alluring
by Peach and Apples
Summary: Twilight based on Beauty and the Beast, but with a few tweaks that keep them separate. The story is during 18th Century France where Bella Swan lives for her father and her books. But when a fated event brings her and a mysterious beast together...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to the great Stephenie Meyer. None for us. Boo-hoo. **

**A/N: **So. I know there have probably been other Beauty and the Beast/Twilight fanfics out there, but you can't blame a girl for trying out her own! So here you go, people -.

Part I is all about the Cullens and their troubles, and how Edward is eventually known as the "beast" of the village. FYI, there are two chapters to Part I. Read and enjoy! _**

* * *

**_

Part I – Chapter One: Tribulation 

"_The greatest productive force is human selfishness." – Robert A. Heinlein_

_--Late 17__th__ Century France--_

Darkness slowly, almost reluctantly, settled upon the deep pines, leaving the craggy cliffs mysterious in darkness. One couldn't have known the difference from dawn to dusk in such an overcast setting. But there was always the comfort of hearing the steady rhythm of the pendulum of the village clock, ticking away the minutes, the seconds, the hours in perpetual steadiness. Counting the day away as the sky flashed its final brilliance, and then no more. The laughter and voices in the narrow streets dwindled away into nothingness, settling down into a peaceful quiet rivaling that of the nearby church.

All this was observed in a castle presumed to either be haunted, or left as a picturesque ruin on the outskirts of an idyllic town. Indeed, it was a pretty little medieval site; its own inhabitants echoed the very glory the castle suggested, and more. They were—all seven of them—ethereally beautiful, with angelic complexions and wanted for nothing. All were quick and graceful, but unlike the previous castle owners, possessed tawny eyes like warm honey, a result of a diet on animals as opposed to humans. As a result of a revulsion to the ideals that vampires naturally followed, they abstained—but not without the pain of resistance.

"Esme," a diminutive figure emerged from the shadows. Her short, inky hair stuck about in all directions. The long waves had long since been done away with at a witch trial.

Esme lifted her head from her embroidery with a warm, maternal smile. "What is it, Alice?"

Alice hesitated for a moment. "Where's Jasper?"

"Well, dear, I would have thought you'd be able to keep track of him." A small frown line marred Esme's flawless features.

"And I have. It's just that… I honestly never thought that it would—!" Alice cut herself off, suddenly dazed. "And Edward…."

"What about him?"

Before she could respond, a strange, blank look came over her face, one that immediately sharpened Esme's senses. It foreboded many things, and not all were minor. They all knew how uncertain the future was. As the vision passed, a thin, grim line unfolded across Alice's mouth.

"We were all gathered around the door discussing something."

"Is that all? No…visitors?"

"That's just it—they were just a blank void," Alice said hollowly. "But—"

"I have a good guess," a velvety voice, roughened by disgust and tension, floated down the stairs.

"Edward!" Esme flew to him at once, anxious. "Who? Where is Carlisle?"

Edward's perfect face was bleak, but he would not allow himself to lose control before his mother. Esme was too gentle to hurt, too gentle for any of this. "He's fetching Jasper and Emmett from hunting. Rosalie should be arriving soon," he assured tonelessly.

Alice exchanged a swift glance with Esme before meeting Edward's eyes, unable to conceal her horror any longer.

"Edward—you swore you would be careful—even when you rebelled, you swore…"

"_Enough_, Alice," he shot threateningly, looked at Esme's disquieted expression, and ran a hand through his hair as he paced. He refused to meet the eyes of his audience.

"Edward, we welcomed you back into our lifestyle with open arms because we love you," Esme started in measured tones. "But what precisely were your activities in your…phase?"

He released a harsh laugh. "I'll spare you the gory details."

Esme blinked at him in horror. Alice placed a hand on her arm.

"It's not what you think."

"I know that more than you do," Edward said under his breath, then stopped pacing. "The dogs will arrive as soon as Carlisle enters the room."

"Ah." Alice hopped down from her perch on the table with a humorless smile. "It makes sense now, the blindness."

"Werewolves?" Esme whispered, and then turned her head imploringly in the direction of the west archway. Carlisle stepped through serenely, flanked by a bewildered Emmett and a grim Jasper. Rosalie glided down the stairs to stand next to her husband, expressionless. She'd listened to the entire conversation from above.

"It _stinks_ out there!" Emmett complained. "They scared off a bear. Couldn't they wait until, oh, I don't know…never?"

"No, they thought it necessary to come at this ungodly hour to pester us with things best forgotten," Edward spat.

"Ironic, that," a dry smile graced Rosalie's face.

"Hush," Esme murmured, even as her son looked daggers at his sister.

Alice skipped to Jasper and looked up at him in consternation; he returned it with a grave look, but forced a calm out to the room that merely brought a gloomy acceptance to fall heavily on their shoulders.

"Carlisle, they're—" Edward stopped himself with a glower at the door.

There was an intrusive pounding on it that just barely bordered on a demand. They all looked upon one another, tense and uncertain. Carlisle broke the silence by striding with purpose across the highly-polished hardwood floor to the door; Edward followed at his elbow, his face like stone.

As the door came open there was a sudden silence, a pause per se, and one so absolute that even the dark brown, sentinel owls that sat upon the pine boughs seemed to blend into their trunks. It was a wonder that they did not flee right then and there; they were perfectly aware of the werewolves skulking amongst their trees, their ready, serrated jaws prepared to kill. They also knew of the vampires that were deadly in their own right, with all the speed and attraction that came with a carnivorous bog plant. Most certainly they knew that a fight was absolutely expected tonight, as their bright, shrewd eyes continued to watch the scene. Their attention could have almost been suspicious.

But the Cullens ignored the birds, instead fixated on the imposing figure that dared to come within feet of their doorstep. His black hair was tied behind his head smoothly, showing the sharp planes of his russet skin clearly in the moonlight. Dark eyes glittered tolerably from beneath his brow as he looked upon Carlisle's level, unflinching gaze. They made quite a comparison—he in his plain, woodsman's clothing, and _they_, dressed like the nobility in one of the larger cities.

Carlisle spoke first, his voice lucid, courteous and free of the aversion that unmistakably filled the air. "What can we do for you, Ephraim?"

The man slowly appraised his words, his head inclined towards them unwillingly. "_Do for me?_ Interesting set of words…Carlisle, was it? As a matter of fact, yes, there is something you could do for me. And for yourselves," he added, his eyes flicking briefly to Edward and away.

Edward, naturally, didn't miss a thing. "Why don't you just come right out and say it, then?" he said tersely. He'd already read the werewolf's thoughts.

"Why don't _you_?"

Edward fell to silently seething, his fists clenched at his sides. He could feel his family's eyes burning a hole straight through him.

A small, taunting smile played along Ephraim's mouth. "I'm sure your 'family' would be very interested in knowing what went on in your—how do you all refer to it as?—rebellious period."

"We're very well aware of what went on during that time, and we'll kindly thank you not to dip your _tail_ in our affairs, dog," Emmett came quietly from behind them.

"Emmett." Carlisle cautioned him without once turning away from the werewolf, whose smile ever so slightly froze and vanished. Edward's glare was like a fixture on his features.

Glancing between the three vampires, Ephraim's taunting abruptly switched to that of a hardened, business-like manner. His nose wrinkled, and he stepped several feet backwards before continuing. "Very well, then. I'll restate it in our view."

"Which is highly unreliable," Alice muttered from the very back.

"Carlisle," Ephraim began to pace slightly from his still stance, "I assume that you are aware of the promise that you made to us when you entered this land, yes? Now because of this incident, we've realized precisely what fools we've been in taking a vampire's word for truth—especially yours, parading around like the very mortals you hunt, wishing you were every bit as human as they." He paused for effect, watching the fists at Edward's sides tremble with suppressed fury. Emmett and Jasper moved forward to restrain him. "You were all fully informed of the damage that the last vampires inflicted upon this humble village, and yet, you broke the pact. You all _agreed_ to hunt outside the vicinity of this area, lest you run the risk of our wrath and the humans' speculation.

"But your _son,_" he scoffed at the term towards their unmoving faces, "killed an innocent. And therefore, you all must be punished. It is only out of courtesy that we didn't simply barge through your doors and finish our business, so be thankful that you were allowed as much. You deserved far, far less."

"Ephraim, we've told you that we do not hunt humans—" Carlisle began.

Edward finally broke free from his brothers and shoved forward, ignoring Carlisle's warning and Esme's cry. His anger threatened to boil over as he confronted Ephraim.

"If you expected to hear an apology from me, you were sadly mistaken," he snarled, "because you aren't going to get it."

"That's a pity." Ephraim's dark eyes bore into Edward's.

"That man was less of a human than I am right now. He had no shame for his acts, and reveled in the shroud of darkness that he carried around. It was like a prize to him. He would have murdered Lord Newton in his sleep if I hadn't stopped him when I did."

"And I suppose that _that_ cancels out your punishment?"

Edward stared him down coldly. "It cancels my family's punishment."

"Not your own? I was under the impression that vampires were selfish creatures, with no regard to anyone but themselves."

"You were wrong."

"No, Edward, _you're_ wrong," Rosalie fired off, coming forward for the first time to glare at her brother directly in the eye. "You're so selfish, that you'd take all of the blame in this crime."

"Rosalie, stay out of this." Edward gritted his teeth, willing her to move off. "And the blame lies fully on me."

"Oh, here he is—little heroic Edward, coming to save his darling, useless brothers and sisters from the nasty mongrels that he saw fit to provoke in his tantrum," Rose continued icily. "Frankly, brother, I've had enough of this. And if you plan to die, then we all go as well."

"I second that," Jasper added. "Handling your guilt is torture."

"Hell, yeah," Emmett scowled. "You're infecting us all with your misery. It's annoyingly irritating, trying to be purely saintly, when all that we can manage is—"

He was silenced by both Esme and Edwards' fierce expressions. Esme met her son's eyes pleadingly. "Edward, please. This is just as much our battle as it is yours."

Edward tightened his jaw, but could see no way to break through the determination that shone from their eyes. "This is my fight, and I'm trying to keep the rest of you alive," he tried again in vain.

Alice smiled at him angelically. "You're going to lose this argument, so you might as well drop it. Besides, I'd miss hearing the harpsichord if you committed suicide."

Their dispute was interrupted by Ephraim's low cough. His face was completely devoid of expression, but a sardonic amusement lingered in his eyes. He now stood at the edge of the forest motionlessly, but that wasn't what attracted the Cullens' attention so completely. It was the sight of a dozen pairs of eyes, ranging from a brilliant yellow to a pale orange glow, staring out at them with affected indifference from beneath the shadows. Edward stiffened to attention again, realizing that the entire pack surrounded the area—and that these wolves didn't cover the half of it.

"I apologize for interrupting your discussion, but there is something I must bring your attention to," the werewolf said conversationally.

They were outnumbered.

* * *

**A/N: **Ugh, I know. A cliffhanger-- how disgusting is that? Well, I figured this was a good place to stop...for now.

Hehe...Lord Newton. What goes around, comes around...


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Characters and _Twilight_ are properties of Stephenie Meyer. Us? None. Not even a smidgen.**

**A/N: **First, I would like to thank my reviewers-- I never thought it'd turn out so well! And a big hug to Peach, the best friend and beta in the whole world.

Part I is all about the Cullens and their troubles, and how Edward comes to be known as the "beast" of the nearby village. FYI, there are two parts to Part I. Read and enjoy!

**_

* * *

_**

**_Part I—Chapter Two: Shift _**

"_Everything changes, nothing perishes." – Ovid_

_-Late 17__th__ Century France- _

The wolves prowled restlessly between the sheltering pines, which were no longer the guardian forces they had been. The owls had long since flown off, and the Cullens were left to face the music—literally, as the werewolves had begun to howl, their voices joining together in a harmony of bloodlust and zeal. Moonlight shone with far more clarity on the oblivious village at the foot of the mountains, as though attempting to veil the event that it knew would take place.

Alice was in a panic. "Edward—I can't see their defeat anywhere in the future. We're sightless!" Jasper squeezed her hand tightly as though it would ensure them safety.

"But I suppose you can see us trouncing _you_?" Another, younger voice not having yet phased jeered.

Alice stared into the forest defiantly, her bottom lip trembling. Edward let out a growl as the rest of the wolves released a yipping equivalent of laughter. He'd had enough of these pup's games. And he wasn't going to allow them to take the only family he'd ever known for nearly a century. He stalked forward just as Ephraim vanished into the trees…followed by a loud, strident howl…

And then the wolves emerged, salivating, their black eyes shining with revenge. They completely surrounded the castle, readying themselves for a massacre. Edward stared coldly back at them without changing tack. He grimaced when he caught Emmett's train of thought.

_Well, at least they didn't underestimate our strength. That's the highest form of flattery they've given all night. _Emmett smirked widely at him, charging into the fray without a second thought for his wellbeing. "Ready to shoot some game, baby brother?"

Edward sighed, but returned it with a scapegrace grin. "Of course."

"Excellent." Emmett released a deafening roar and charged for the nearest wolf as the swell of fur surged forward.

Before long, the air was filled with the sounds of a battle.

Esme was ferociously guarding the door of the castle as a mother hen might defend her nest—there was absolutely no chance of these abominable creatures getting to _her_ furnishings. Two wolves smashed into the same tree, which wobbled dangerously on its base, showering the mossy ground with pine needles. Rosalie watched, pleased, as they collapsed to the ground, whimpering. Jasper and Edward were almost invisible in their speed.

Carlisle was acted in the front lines to keep the wolves at bay. The last thing he wanted was to kill anyone, and seeing the scene that unfolded in the clearing, he realized that it couldn't be helped. But he could at least _try._ Esme caught her husband's eye in a brief reprieve, and couldn't help it as the tiny fissure line along her heart began to grow. She understood what he was feeling, but laid under siege as they were, did anyone have a choice? Hopelessly, she looked about.

Their choices had narrowed down into two: kill or be killed. It was as easy as that, but so terribly difficult. Alienating Edward was totally out of the question.

Rosalie's mind, unlike her parents', was coolly preoccupied with analyzing the events, even as she evaded and plagued the wolves that she exchanged blows with. No matter how much she cared for him, she couldn't help but be livid at Edward's rash actions. Couldn't he have been a little more discreet, regardless of whether the victim was an innocent or a murderer? Oh, no, she didn't care that her brother chose to be a human-bloodsucking creature—more power to _him_. What did matter was that his act had affected them all. And now, the lives they had worked so hard to establish were dashed to pieces.

Hearing this, Edward felt a fresh pang of guilt injected into his gut. For once in this evening, his sister was right. He stood perfectly still in thought, not bothering to move as Alice darted past with a wolf on her heels. The creature's paw collided with him, but all he managed was a grunt. His jaw tightened in disgust for himself. If he'd never come home, maybe this could have been avoided. He could have moved north with the succubus sisters instead. Or, he could have continued on his track…he'd adapted to human blood quickly enough…. Shaking his head, he resumed the fight.

No. He had to protect his family from this, no matter the cost.

Alice stopped and stood in the center of three werewolves, motionless and concentrated. She dodged their attack gracefully at the exact second they charged, grabbed a wolf by the tail, and slammed it against the nearby trunk. Simultaneously, Emmett crashed into the same tree.

It fell with a thunderous crack.

For a moment, the scene was frozen as they listened for the village; it would be their worst folly if someone—a _human_—stumbled into the clearing and came upon two different groups of supernatural beings. After a second, the bloodbath resumed.

Before anyone else could react, Emmett was pounced on by two wolves who attempted to rip off his arm. He let out a furious yelp, feeling his right thumb being sawed away. Edward changed direction to help his brother, crushing the offending creature along its ribs.

He was distracted then.

There was a loud boom as an enormous chocolate-brown wolf tackled him hard, causing them both to sail across the clearing. The impact created a large dent in the soft ground. Edward rallied himself upon recognizing the wolf as Ephraim, whose thoughts hadn't quite the polished edge that they had when spoken aloud.

_We've known all along that the idea of animal-feeding bloodsuckers was not possible._

"Just as we've always known that a werewolves' mind is not as sharp as his teeth." Edward met the black eyes with a fixed stare. Then in one smooth movement, he circled the wolf's paws with his hands and threw him off. "You could have killed me off right there, you know that?"

Ephraim recovered and drilled his infuriated gaze into Edward's. _You're right about the last part—enough of this. _Adieu pour toujours,_ leech. _

Edward had prepared himself for the force, and avoided the jaws that angled to dismember his head. He gave distance between himself and the wolf's hulking form, feeling exhilaration at the sudden speed in tempo as he watched Ephraim catch sight of him. It was now a game of chase, weaving in, out, and around the battlefield. And they would dance each other to the death, if that was what it took.

As wolves fled the scene, a few more leapt in to take their place in the deepening evening.

* * *

_-Late 17__th__ Century France --On the Outskirts of the Village-_

A dark, cloaked figure made ready to blow out the candle in the tiny living space that she called her home—a single roomed tower. It was rumored among the villagers that the tower had been originally part of the looming castle's construction until it was blasted off by lightning, or by some other unknown natural force; indeed, it appeared to be a replica of the castle's turrets.

Those who gossiped about this may have very well been correct. Then again, there wasn't any evidence to disprove it, no telltale burns or markings…which gave the solemn tower its aura of mystery. Like the castle, people left the site well enough alone. It wasn't a particularly forbidding presence, no, not like the enormous structure that overshadowed it. There was just something about it that wasn't quite right.

The cloaked figure paused mid-breath, listening at the windowsill hard, as though she could sense the event taking place in the forest. Her nimble fingers gently placed the candle on top of a tiny tea table as her thoughtful, light brown eyes eyed the church. The twin bells on either side of the clock were still. Its inhabitants obviously had no intention of walking out to observe how silent the night was, how unusual, how tightly drawn the crisp air was. She let out a low chuckle; if they even _did_ bother to check, they'd probably cast it up as a sign from the heavens.

An owl, with all the composed poise of royalty, quietly perched along the edge of the sill with an almost inaudible hoot. The figure smiled from under her cloak.

But the owls knew; they watched and listened. They were the perfect choice for guard, after hearing the dissent from the wolves and the latest news of the vampires. The politics in the life of a supernatural being were simple: Discretion, or exile. And right now, both groups appeared to be ready for banishment.

The figure sighed, tilting her head up towards the stars, pondering. The movement caused her hood to fall back slightly, revealing a pleasant, kind face that frowned slightly from bother. The rest of her features were concealed from the shadows that the feeble candlelight cast in the room.

_What to do now?_ She wondered. It would be difficult trying to smuggle a vampire out of the district, let alone an entire coven. And she most certainly wasn't going to convince an entire pack of bull-headed wolves to push off—absolutely not.

Pacing the room, she toyed with an idea. The vampires, whom she knew hunted animals—a marvelous new concept—struggled, nevertheless, with their thirst. But they didn't completely deserve pity; a punishment was needed to compensate for the fatal act. The wolves weren't entirely innocent either. If one of them were foolish enough to spread news in the village that bloodsucking monsters lived right outside their beloved homes…calamity would strike. Not to mention some few, extremely superstitious others who would charge out to other townships, preaching the end of the world…

She shook her head decidedly. The wolves were very vocal; without a doubt they'd have the news spread by sunrise. And something had to be done to keep the balance—without any killings; justice without the blood. Smiling wryly, she reflected that the French rulers could probably take that advice. _Now, how to execute the plan._

With her eye following the slim trail of moonlight into the clearing, she leaned out the window to deliver to the vampires a surprise of a lifetime. As for the wolves…no one would be able to understand them, should they try to spread gossip.

Justice without the blood, and a spoonful of astonishment; this was all in a day's work for a witch in hiding.

She watched for a moment as the light, for the briefest second, intensified and faded to the ghostly shade of silver it originally had been.

Then, she blew out the candle.

* * *

_-The Clearing-_

_We're losing._

Edward growled and shook his head as if to dispel Alice's despondent thoughts from his mind. Defeat was absolutely unacceptable, and forfeit was unavailable. He was at least relieved that none of his family was missing any limbs. Rosalie's viciousness had heightened upon having the Belgian lace of her skirt torn off, as well as witnessing her expensively tailored dress become tattered. That was a help.

Noticing that Ephraim had begun to tire, Edward moved in for the mortal blow. The wolf's eyes rose to his, bright with determination. A grudging respect stirred within him, but now was definitely not the time to show even a _degree_ of esteem. It was too late for any of that.

Raising his hand to strike, Emmett's disbelieving shout echoed loud across the clearing. "What the—!"

"Edward!" Esme screamed from somewhere across the way. "Get away from here!"

"No—"

"I'm begging you, Edward. Please, please, _please_ just go!" Had she been mortal, she probably would have been in tears.

Breathing heavily with frustration and near desperation, Edward slipped off into the trees. He dearly hoped that Esme, Carlisle, and the rest of them would survive when he returned. His conscience was heavy with regret as he sped off, away from the forest.

At the clearing, there was a blinding flash of light, coupled with the wolves' keening…

* * *

**A/N**: I just adore cliffies. They're just so...tense and infuriating. Passionate. Tell me if you hate me for this, and I'll thank you, because (and I quote Jacob Black) hate is a passionate emotion.

Wouldn't y'all like to know who that cloaked figure was?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Shares for Stephenie Meyer: 100 percent; Shares for Us: None. **

**A/N: A _big_ thank you to my reviewers and to Peach (of course)!! This is the start of Part II, and, unless otherwise indicated, the whole thing will be in third-person limited Bella mode. So, yeah. Also, I tried to make Jacob as likable as possible, but his last impression on me was the slightly bitter Jacob, not the sweet, innocent boy we'd all like to see. **

**In an answer to the reviews, no, that witch was not Bella. Bella's going to be a helpless mortal for the entire story :). AND, yes, it says _Mid-18th Century_, not _17th Century_. A good chunk of time passed by. Anyway, go on and read! **__

* * *

Part II—Chapter 3: Fairytale

"_Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known." – Carl Segan_

_-Mid-18th Century France- _

"…_And in their place there was furniture, scattered and strewn across the hushed lawn, inert yet mobile all at once. In the distance was the mournful yowling of wolves, echoing off among the peaks of the mountains and disappearing into the night, blending with the serene silvery glow of the moon. Upon the return of the beastly creature, he flew into such a rage that he destroyed the beautiful center of the castle. But in his dismay, he locked himself—his very soul and being—within the cold, stone walls forever, never to be seen by humankind again."_

Isabella Swan raised her head from the book to Jacob, her delicate, heart-shaped face alight from the fervor of her reading. Her deep, brown eyes were equal parts wondering and questioning as she watched for her best friend's reaction to the tale. As her confidante, he was entitled to the honor of giving honest feedback on almost anything Bella asked for.

"Well? What do you think of it?"

Jacob barely stole a glance at her. He was preoccupied with browsing through the scrap metal from the silversmith and steering his friend around potentially dangerous obstacles, including the people that bustled busily around the marketplace.

Bella tapped her foot impatiently, closing the book with a meaningful snap. She knew that being a girl rendered her two-year seniority meaningless, but Jacob usually paid his due. "Jacob!"

"What?"

"What do you think of the—"

"Sir, is it possible for this to be welded into a cylinder?"

"I am not a 'sir', Jacob Black. And—"

He sighed, exasperated. "Not _you_, Bells."

Bella slowly closed her eyes and twitched her elbow away from his protective hand, moving off closer towards the door of the shop. She now wondered if she should have simply trailed after her two sisters instead; Jacob could spend half a day with the smiths, gathering pieces for what they both called his "project", a contraption that could eventually make a difference in the country. _Possibly_ even the entire continent. Bella saw the potential in the "thing" (whatever it was), even though to others it appeared just a little more than a pile of junk pieced together. She trusted Jacob to know what he was doing. She just wished that he _read_ a little more—that ought to be just as interesting as creating some odd device. And reading manuals most certainly didn't count, not in the least bit.

Resigning herself to an interminable hour of metal browsing, she plopped down on a stool and proceeded to flip through the handsome, leather-bound book on her lap. Arriving to the tale of a prince rescuing a maiden, she thought bemusedly, _Surely princes in the true concept of the art don't exist. They can't possibly, in a world as rationalized as this. _

No one could know this better than her. Her mother, beloved though she was, had run off to fashionable Paris to become an actress. She had to do it, Renee had often told her, or else she may just go mad trying to be a good little housewife in a too-perfect community. It wasn't because she was tired of her daughter—no, never! In fact, Bella had yet to give a definite answer to her mother's pleas of visiting Paris. She'd hedged around it a bit, so as not to hurt her father, Charles', feelings. Besides, she wanted to give her mother and her fiancée their leeway. Who wanted a growing teenager hanging around everyday? That wasn't her idea of a romance.

_Speak of the devil, and he shall come_. Bella grimaced, and raised the open book to her face, in hopes of hiding the sight of the overly-attentive figure otherwise known as Sir Newton's son.

'Darling Michael' was the young man who her sisters—and every other girl in vicinity, for that matter—sighed and gushed over obsessively. Bella couldn't see what all the fuss was about. Newton was a nice sort—too nice, perhaps, with just the slightest tinge of snobbery that came with a lordly lineage. That bit, Bella didn't blame him. She only wished he could bring his far-fetched hopes of marrying her down to a close. It was never going to happen. For herself, she wanted someone a little, oh, a little _less_ generic.

Peeking over the book, she watched him saunter down the wide boulevard, shooting open smiles at the girls that vied for his attention on the sidelines.

"Sickening fop, Newton. You're not staring at him, are you?"

Bella jumped, dropping the book with a hard smack onto the ground. She blushed at the curious stares that she received and hastily gathered the book back into her arms. Rising from the stool, she twitched her apron and skirt with what dignity she felt she had left, and swept out of the store in high dudgeon without a word to Jacob.

And she probably would have tripped over the chicken that chose at that moment to cross her path, had he not been there in time to steady her.

"Bella?" Jacob held onto her arm with his free hand.

"Are you finished here?"

"Yes."

"Oh, good. And I was just waiting to see if Newton would pass without popping out at me like he usually does."

With a laugh, Jacob led them into the active streets, Bella tucking the book safely under her arm and keeping a lookout for any more loose poultry.

"What's it to you?" she suddenly asked.

"Which?"

"What's your interest in whether I fancy Michael or not?"

Jacob remained thoughtfully silent for a moment, and Bella for the briefest second feared what thoughts were roiling through his mind.

"I just don't think he's good enough for you," he finally answered.

Bella scrutinized him, and then shrugged, ending the awkward conversation. She'd never dealt well with emotions, especially when it came tied hand in hand with the heart. Jacob cast it up to having two bothersome sisters, but she believed it was because she was more her father's child than anything else. Constable Swan preferred not to get sentimental, and often avoided the petty tiffs that her sisters got into after watching 'Darling Michael's attentions get distracted.

"So, where are we off to now, Miss Swan?"

She smiled. "To fetch Lauren and Jessica."

The smile fell slightly from his face. "Shopping for new clothes? Please tell me that they are at the store right around the block."

"If I told you that, I wouldn't know my sisters."

Jacob suppressed a groan and continued to plow through the crowded boulevard, avoiding the wheelbarrows and carts that threatened to plow right on their unfortunate selves. Bella tripped along after him, mumbling excuses to the people she happened to bump into. But, as always, her eyes were wandering about the marketplace in curiosity: on the stalls, on the people that shouted and encouraged attention, on the minstrels. Her senses couldn't help but absorb the energy that engulfed the entire street. It was both maddening and exhilarating, for such a small village as theirs.

Despite their village's size, it contained quaint wonders that made people forget its stature and instead fall in love with it for its own sake. The cottages that grouped along the highland were pleasing to the beholder, at their curling, yet modest ironwork and their appealingly red roofs. The thin, willowy trees and vegetation only added to the charm. And then there was the community's pride and joy—their church, with its graceful build and twin silver bells, both hung on either side of the mellow clock. From afar on a sunny day, one might even believe the place to have come straight from a storybook, what with the brooding castle and the deep green of the sprawling forests.

Bella glanced to her left as they bustled through, taking in the castle. Its grey, stone walls seemed stern to her, but somehow held some sort of gravity. Squinting at the windows, she could have sworn that a curtain shuddered back into its rightful place. She shuddered; maybe she _did _have an overactive imagination.

"Bella, they're there." Jacob wrinkled his nose and pointed towards a store flocked by women.

"What? Oh, right, them." She shook her head at her friend's odd expression, and smiled at him hopefully. "I don't suppose you're going to come with me?"

"Not a chance. Fat women are everywhere to help cushion a blow, so why bother?"

Bella pulled a face at his remark, turned on her heel, and dove into the shop. She skirted around a table piled high with fabrics, trying hard not to step on the hems of the dresses that the women flourished. _Lauren, Jessica, please don't spend father's money_, she silently begged. This place was worse than she thought. It was practically a battlefield.

"Jessica, dear, that will need to be…adjusted for your girth."

_There!_ Bella hastily made her way to where her sisters were having their discussion, and found Lauren with several pieces of clothing over her arm, idly checking her nails while watching Jess posture for her.

"You can't buy all of that," Bella stated firmly, coming to stand beside them.

"Um…yes. Bella, doesn't that dress look simply awful on your sister?"

"Er, well, it's a bit flashy don't you think?"

Jessica rolled her eyes and tossed her impossibly curly hair over her shoulder. "Of course it's flashy, silly. It's for Michael!"

"But you'll be attracting all the wrong attentions if you wear that horrid contraption. Try something else, won't you?" Lauren sniffed, as she tried the effect of pink against her complexion. Jessica pouted, but continued to stare wistfully at her reflection.

Bella, not withstanding it any longer, placed a hand on either of their shoulders and began to steer them out of the store. She ignored their protests.

"Bella!" Lauren stared at her with wide, blue eyes. "I'm the oldest, and I say—"

"I don't really think it matters what you say on this issue, because you're going to drive us all to the poorhouse if you don't put those things down!" she hissed.

"Are we really going to live at the poorhouse?" Jessica ventured timidly.

She went unnoticed. Lauren drilled her gaze into her younger sister's icily, resentfully. Bella met it with a stubbornly determined expression. Finally, with a melodramatic sigh, Lauren dumped the dresses over a chair and pranced out of the shop.

"Isabella Marie, that was either the most foolish or wisest decision you've ever made me do."

Bella followed behind her, dragging Jessica by the wrist. "Why wise?"

"Because those dresses might just be too loud, after all."

Jessica threw her gown into the arms of a passing lady at the words.

"Looking like simple, sweet village girls might just be what we need to get—"

"Bella!"

_Lord, why?_

"Michael, what a _pleasant_ surprise!" Lauren gushed, slyly pushing her sisters to the back.

For once, Bella was grateful for her obsession. Now, if she could just find a way to escape…but no, Jessica's hand was clamped tightly against her own to contain her bubbling excitement. She grumbled, scowling. And where did Jacob go? She could've sworn he was just standing at the entrance.

"Good day to you, too, Lauren, Bella…Jessica," Michael greeted them, and took a wary step back at Jessica's muffled squeal.

"He spoke to us!" she whispered excitedly to Bella, who rolled her eyes.

"Oh, wonderful." They were definitely in over their heads.

"So, what brings you here to the market, when you could be at home working on your business skills?" Lauren asked curiously.

_Oh, sister, what else? Shopping perhaps…for a bride. _Bella snorted, but promptly became solemn at their attentions. Where was Jacob Black when you needed him?!

"It's a beautiful day today, and I thought that you ladies would be out buying ravishing new dresses for a cotillion." His eyes were fixed only on Bella. She smiled weakly.

"Oh, that's much too fancy for us simple girls," Jessica tittered.

"I could have been fooled. Would you care to join me…?"

Without another word, Bella's hand was thrown away by Jess in the same fashion as the gown. She began to back off as her sisters looped their arms through their victims', and beamed at Michael as he glanced between them in bewilderment. A small flame of pity flickered within her. The poor, poor boy.

"Bella, aren't you coming?" he asked, twisting his head backwards, fully expecting her not to refuse.

The flame sputtered and died. "No, thank you."

"I insist—"

"Michael, don't mind her, she'll only spoil the day. Now, off we go!" Lauren chirped gaily, leading the way back into the crowded streets and waving to Bella with her free hand. "Tell papa that we'll be home later on in the evening!"

Freed, Bella waved her hand enthusiastically. Perhaps Jacob had gone to the apothecary without her for Billy's herbs.

"Where're they going now?"

Bella flinched inwardly, before turning around with a glare. "Would it kill you to give some sort of warning?"

Jacob shrugged, and tore off another piece of the bread and cheese he held in his hand. "If I yelled at you, I'd choke on my food. So, yes, it would kill me," he answered in a muffled tone.

"Gosh, you're hungry," she muttered, ignoring the comment. The bread was almost a yard long.

"Growing boys need food. So I left for a while to get some."

"You get too much of it."

"And you get too little of it. What are you trying to be, a stick?"

"Hush, you'll choke." Bella began to pick her way to the apothecary back up the road, staying close to the buildings at her right.

Instead of responding, Jacob swallowed noisily, following close to her elbow.

The apothecary was one of Bella's favorite stops when wandering down the roads, simply for the purpose of visiting her friend, Angela Weber, whose family ran the tiny store. At the present, her family was out on a trip to another country, leaving Ange to run the business on her own.

The tiny bell on the door tinkled lightly as Bella pushed it open. A soft mew and a pattering of feet could be heard from somewhere across the shop as they entered, taking in the familiar sights of the store. Small, neat tables bore mass merchandise, while the walls were lined with shelves containing a collection of books—all of them informational. The herbs and bottles of medicine were kept in the back of the store.

"Angela?"

"Hey, Bells, do you think my father should get this? You know…in case he poisons himself?"

Bella turned to see Jacob holding a medical volume in the air. She frowned.

"Why on earth would he do a thing like that?"

"Depression, perhaps?" Angela emerged from the storeroom, stroking a fuzzy, orange kitten in her hand.

Bella smiled at her friend, who was looking at the both of them amicably. "No, he's just joking."

"Not really." Jacob placed the book back on the shelf and stuffed his large hands into his pockets with a shrug. "At times I'm sure the old man's finally become senile. Lately, he's been mumbling about some bull about our heritage and magic." He rolled his eyes to show exactly how ridiculous he found it to be.

"Magic?" Bella and Angela asked in unison, Bella's voice curious, in contrast to Angela's skepticism and light amusement.

"It's nothing. Just a bunch of old stories—"

"Stories? Like the ones he used to tell us when we were little kids?" Bella felt a slight deflation in the pit of her stomach. A part of her had hoped that there was something relatively new and unusual to Billy's so-called mumblings.

"Yes, that. And that one story you were telling me about earlier about with the monster wolves and bloodsucking furniture. Fairytales," Jacob added, taking long strides towards the front counter, where Angela was already gathering what they needed.

"Oh." Picking up the kitten from the floor, Bella tilted her head towards the ceiling, pondering now on Jacob's obvious uneasiness with the situation. It was strange, considering that they told each other everything. And Angela was a loyal person—she was never one to spread rumors.

"Oops."

"Oops?"

Bella gently placed the kitten on the floor, letting it scramble under a table as she looked to see what the trouble was about. On the desk were laid out the herbs she saw so frequently, that both she and Jacob had memorized the order. There was angelica, arnica, and juniper for muscle soreness and rheumatism, as well as basil for Billy's blood levels. That was it. She edged closer to the table where Jacob was frowning down at the package and Angela was rummaging through stores. There was nothing else they needed other than those herbs.

"Angela, are you okay? You've been doing this for as long as we can remember, working this voodoo medicine stuff. I wonder if you've finally cracked?" Jacob picked through the plants.

Angela rose from the bottom shelves sheepishly, and cast about herself hopefully, as though wishing for whatever she desired to appear. "I was planning to add in chamomile—you sounded terribly worried for your father's mentality, Jacob. I'm sorry, but I seem to have run out of stock for that."

"It would've been useful," Jacob agreed, gathering up the bundle. "But it's the thought that counts."

"I'll gather more at the forest today and close up shop."

"Now?" Bella took her book from Jacob to lessen his load. It seemed awful, to close up business just for their sake…

A brilliant idea popped into her head.

"Wait, I could run into the forest for you and grab the chamomile."

"Bella, you don't need to do that," Angela made a quick refusal.

"Yes, I do. What's the worst that could happen anyway?" she asked.

Jacob muttered under his breath. "You could trip and fall over a pebble and clobber your head on a tree branch. A squirrel could come and bite you on the rear end, leaving horrible marks on your—"

"_Honestly_, what's the worst?" Bella interjected, stamping down on his foot.

Angela regarded them both for a moment, before saying carefully, "Well, you might get lost, for one."

That was a pretty bad situation. "I could put something on fire as a signal. What else?" she persisted.

"Bella, there have been reports of wolves around the area. They could seriously injure you, not to mention dismember you to pieces."

"Far worse than a squirrel," Jacob added.

She waved it off. "I still have the fire, and it's burning. _What else?_"

Angela sighed. "What about huge, hulking, bear creatures?"

Bella blinked. "Do those exist?"

"They might." A glimmer of amusement hovered at the edges of Angela's features.

"Come on, Ange. I've been left with _this_," she gestured to Jacob, "for the entire day. Don't I deserve some peace and quiet? Peace and quiet that only a _forest_ could offer?"

"Peace and quiet that could mean imminent death?" Jacob helpfully provided along the sidelines. "I mean, your atmosphere doesn't exactly include the words 'peace' or 'quiet' in a positive way."

"This is exactly why I need it. Please?" Bella looked to Angela beseechingly, who let out a chuckle.

"Bella, you've got a good imagination. What if those monsters in that story Jacob was talking about earlier—about the furniture and the giant wolves—came out to get you? Along with an evil fairy that places curses on everyone and everything?"

Bella could see that her friends were both simply hoping that she would call her proposal off and move on to more rational pursuits. Angela had even gone so far as to picture things that didn't exist, and Jacob hadn't even bothered to openly mock it—there was an ironic twist to his mouth that signaled it, however. She was beat. Two to one just wasn't fair.

"Fine," she sighed. "Bye, Ange. Come on, Jacob, let's stop pestering people."

"I can go."

She stopped dead in her tracks. What?

"What?" Angela blinked at him.

"I can go for you. Billy wanted me to go hunting for game later this afternoon. That way, I'd save you the trouble, and I'd save myself the extra coin." Jacob grinned at Bella, who stared at him in disbelief.

"Absolutely, positively—"

"Yes, of course. It's located up north, where the oaks start to grow."

"Thanks. Come on, Bella, let's stop dawdling and leave Angela alone."

Bella glared up at him, seething, but allowed herself to be dragged out of the shop by Jacob, who had begun to whistle merrily. Again, she was underestimated. She was sure that if she'd only stubbornly latched onto her argument, Angela would have let her go on the errand. She would have taken extra care of where she went, as well; no one need have worried for her excessively.

As soon as they reached the corner, she pulled her wrist out of Jacob's grasp and faced him, her chin set at a mulish angle. "That wasn't fair. Your argument was superior to mine, with the advantage of a win-win situation."

"Life isn't fair."

"I know that," she exhaled noisily, and then changed tack, staring up at him entreatingly. "I can come with you, can't I? Charlie will let me, he trusts you not to let me escape from your imprisonment longer than a minute."

"Bella, no."

She pursed her lips, crossing her arms. "Why not? This is unlike you, not to drag me into a jaunt."

"I need to shoot down bouncing rabbits," he explained. "And it will be rather difficult to pay attention to you while aiming. Rebecca swore she'd kill me if I didn't come up with at least four decent kills."

"Tie a rope from your waist to my wrist."

"You'll trip me up on purpose!"

"No, I won't. Please?"

"No. Please? I'd rather not get killed by my own sister."

Squaring her jaw, Bella marched off and away towards the direction of the Swan household from a side road. It was a humble cottage, at the edge of the village and at the foot of the hills leading into the mountains. Jacob kept up with her easily.

"Bella?"

"And you say I have crazy siblings."

"At least Rebecca can be reasonable. Bella, what do you say?"

"Yes, okay. I'll agree to your ridiculous idea."

"Promise," he said seriously.

She clucked her tongue in irritation. "Fine, I promise and swear to the heavens and back that I won't violate our compromise."

Humming in satisfaction, Jacob took her hand again and pulled her into a sudden run.

"You look dead. I thought you needed this to liven you up," he told her.

Bella concentrated on making sure she didn't fall and humiliate herself in front of the people that traipsed along the side of the road.

* * *

"Hi, honey. Where are your sisters?" 

Bella laid her coat over a chair and leaned on it as she smiled at her father. She'd been dropped off at her house with a quick and cheerful farewell from Jacob, who rushed to his own house, closer to the main square of the village. Charles Swan was busily tucking in a blueberry pie, and only gave his daughter half his normal attention.

"They're coming home a bit later."

"Oh, all right, then. Why?"

"Gallivanting about Michael Newton…" she trailed off vaguely.

Her father chewed thoughtfully. "Sir Newton's boy, isn't he? Nice young man, that. Responsible with his deeds. Bella, why don't you consider him? You could do a lot worse than marry—"

_Did he use my name, Newton's, and _marry_ in the same sentence?_ Bella cringed away from the thought. "But, I could do better than him, couldn't I?"

"Perhaps, if you went into the city like your mother insists you do."

This was an old topic. Bella knew that her father believed she could live her life to its fullest potential in Paris, as compared to staying, which was his secret desire. "Father, I like it here. Who needs those fancy artists and nobles?" she added jokingly.

Charles nodded agreeably. "It's high time you started thinking about your future, though."

"I'll be sure to start on that." She suppressed a yawn. Her father noticed anyway.

"Start on it in your room. Bella, you look beat. Go rest."

"I'll see you in an hour, then, at dinner. Don't eat the whole pie," she added, beginning to walk off to the hallway. She didn't bother to listen for a response, knowing that he would save room for the main course, as always.

Opening her door, she immediately fell upon her bed, closing her eyes and allowing the day's exhaustion to seep entirely into her skin. It was a long day. Its events played back over in her head, and again she wondered what was wrong with Billy, other than the usual, physical problems. She'd also forgotten to ask after Ben while in Angela's company. Ange adored him—it was a hard thing to ignore. Bella could've almost called it love…

The last thing that was on her mind before she fell asleep was her book, which lay at the foot of her bed, innocent and serene.

* * *

**A/N: Not quite a cliffie, but that's all right. There are more opportunities for that later! Just wait 'til the next chapter... **

**To those of you that forgot, Rebecca Black is Jacob's older sister, as mentioned in either _Twilight_ or _New Moon_, I forget which one. He's got another sister, I know...but I she didn't feel like showing up in my mind, and thus, was not written in.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: The Twilight series and its characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. We can only hope to encroach on the premises just a little while longer :)**

**A/N: It's the moment you've all been waiting for. Romeo, meet Juliet. ****Ach, finally this chapter's _done!_ There was the _worst_ case of writer's block going around, and it was driving me positively mad. Insane. Anyway, there's a bit of French in here, the phrase basically translating to: "**You fool! Watch where you're going!"

**Chapter 4 is titled after the lyrics in the song "Fork and Knife" by Brand New (my savior from writer's block). As always, thanks to my reviewers for your patience, and thanks to Peach (crazy nuts forever!). _

* * *

_**

_**Part II—Chapter 4: Morning's Over**_

"_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—_

_I took the one less traveled by,_

_And that has made all the difference." – Robert Frost_

_-Mid-18__th__ Century France- _

Constable Swan had left to parade the streets an hour earlier; Jessica and Lauren were still snoring their heads off in their rooms. They had gotten into a snit the night before—again, over Michael Newton—and Bella wasn't too keen on waking them up for breakfast, dealing with their dirty looks and sullen expressions. She could have just as soon left for the Black household, but she had a feeling Jacob wouldn't be up to talk yet. He was a heavy sleeper, especially after a good meal. And Rebecca was, if nothing, a good cook. They'd often joked around that the only reason why Billy never insisted on marrying her off was due to her cooking skills.

Bella absently swallowed a spoonful of porridge as she watched the wall clock's hands move ever so slightly closer to the hour. Sunlight streamed in freely through the window lattice, scattering a pale, yellow glow in the small kitchen. Decisively, Bella placed her spoon in her bowl, pushed both away, and propped her chin up on her hands as she leaned on the table. The clock continued ticking monotonously.

_Tick. Tick. Tick. _

She began to swing her legs underneath the table, as though willing the clock's steady pace to quicken. Bella sighed. If Jacob had only taken her with him the other day, then maybe she'd still be in bed and not up waiting like half-wit in the rain. At least by sleeping, she'd be doing _something_. By sleeping, she'd be able to dream about a solution for her mother's constant pestering offer on coming to Paris.

_Ah, Paris . No Newton , no marrying, and no constant supervision…_It was almost a dream in itself; then again…_no Jacob, no Angela. _Bella couldn't truthfully say 'no companionship' since Renee was more of a friend to her than a mother. A frown pleated her brow. That meant the pros for leaving their village outweighed the cons.

It wouldn't do.

She breathed out a sigh of annoyance as she rose from her seat, taking her dish to the washing bin and submerging it in water. She was only torturing her head by thinking these thoughts. Perhaps she _should_ go over to the Blacks', regardless of the time. Rebecca could use some company other than Billy, who likely wanted tidings of Charlie. A voice in the back of her head snorted. Okay, so he didn't _need_ tidings of Charlie, whom he saw almost everyday, but still! She had to get out of the house before she completely lost her mind and started talking to inanimate objects.

Bella paused on her way out the room in thought. Yet if she _did_ start talking to inanimate objects, maybe Michael would finally come to his senses. The prospect of it cheered her, but she skipped ahead to her room anyway to properly dress for calling.

She crept by Lauren's room, taking care not to wake her and shut the slightly open door. At Jessica's room, she paused; out of the two, she admittedly preferred Jess. Her youngest sister babbled nonstop when started and was a tad bit shallow, but her bond to Bella was far less capricious than hers to Lauren. Jess had curled herself up into a tight ball and had kicked away her blanket sometime during the night.

Bella quietly entered the room and pulled the covers back up over her sister, tucking it around her just as Renee used to do when she had been around. Then she turned to tiptoe out the door.

"Bella?"

She halted mid-step, and inclined her head slightly over her right shoulder. "Yes, Jessica?"

"Michael loves me best, doesn't he?" There was such a determined hope in her eyes that Bella couldn't lie to her even if she wanted to—as if she _could_.

"Why wouldn't he?"

Jess smiled blissfully and turned her back to the door, mumbling, "Yes, why wouldn't he?" She sighed and drifted back into slumber.

Shutting the door behind her, Bella slipped into her own bedroom to dress for the day.

The large window over her bed heralded a beautiful day. The sparrows chirped gaily from the tree, which had only begun to make the seasonal change from green to orange.

This was perfect. Now all she needed to do was lure Jacob away from his machinery long enough to take a walk in the forest.

* * *

Bella smiled politely to allow a mother and her noisy brood pass before she rounded the corner of the narrow street. She'd always personally thought that the Blacks had picked a beautiful area to settle in. Ivy trailed lovingly on the worn brick-and-stone walls, the roof almost completely hidden by the growing layer of dark green vines. Vibrant magenta flowers peeped out occasionally through the leaves, straining for the early morning sunshine that just never seemed to reach it. They enveloped that patch of street with a light, sweet scent. Fronds spilled out along the side of the modest structure, tickling Bella's arm with their feathery leaves as she made her way up the steep set of steps that led to the front door. 

For the briefest moment she hesitated, her fist raised to knock. _Oh, never mind, _she thought impatiently and proceeded to knock on the door. She paused in the middle of her second round of rapping, suddenly aware of a commotion through the doors. There was a calm, placating voice followed by a quick, agitated gruff tone that Bella gathered was Billy.

_Maybe Jacob wasn't exaggerating._

Beyond the door, she heard a heavy, uneven gait followed by the familiar thumping of Billy's cane. She released the doorknob from under her right hand as the door came away to be opened by Billy Black, his dark eyes unfathomable and his mouth in a tight, thin line. Bella tried for a smile.

"Good morning, Billy."

"Bells, what are you doing here?" Bella's eyes widened as her father's face poked around the corner of the house.

"Ch—father, I thought that you were supposed to be…?"

"It's just a quick visit, but it turns out that I may—"

"Jacob isn't here," Billy interrupted brusquely, limping away. He left the door ajar and Bella took it as a sign that she wasn't barred from the premises, if not completely welcome.

She tentatively walked in and watched as Billy sank heavily into a divan, his face deeply lined with anxiety. He turned his head away to stare listlessly out the window. Rebecca silently swept into the room and placed a cup of tea at her father's elbow. The air was thick with strain and Bella couldn't take it any longer.

"What's going on?" She directed the question to anyone in general. Someone had to answer it. Anyone—she didn't care.

"Bella, when was the last time you saw Jacob?" Rebecca asked. Her dark brown eyes were inscrutable.

Bella felt her breath constrict in her throat. _Of course…._ "Yesterday. When was the last time _you _saw him?"

"Just before he set off for the forest."

"He'll come back," Constable Swan rushed to assure them as Bella felt herself become cold. She leaned against the wall and tried to think clearly against the fog that had begun to settle in her mind. Jacob may have…no, she couldn't afford to believe the worst. She could still picture his animated features from the day before as he threw a grin and sped off away from her door, waving and calling back jokes…

"He's alive," she finally said, surprised at the firmness in her tone.

"That's right!"

"We'll hope," Rebecca murmured.

"Isn't anyone going to do anything about this?" Bella demanded.

No one in the room responded, and she felt a twinge of irritation pull at her. Dejection reigned supreme in the room, darkening the clear autumn day—and Bella suddenly had a feverish desire to go against the grain. Barely knowing what she was doing, she pushed away from the wall and turned to go for the door with only one thing printed on her mind, white hot and insistent.

_Must go the forest; no other choice left. Must go into the forest._

"Bella, where—?"

"I really have to go now, sorry I can't stay much longer," she said hurriedly.

"Yes," Charles Swan nodded in relief, "go home. You look a little pale from all of this, but don't worry; it'll be sorted out in no time. I'll be off now to alert the rest of the brigade for any leads, so best of regards Billy, Rebecca."

Bella spun on her heel. "You can't!"

"Why not? Bella, it's going to be fine."

She shook her head frantically. "No, you can't go right now. Please," she forced herself to adopt a calmer demeanor. "As my father, will you please stay with the Blacks? I'm—it worries me about, you know, and I can't—I mean, I don't…" Twisting the doorknob under her sweaty palm, Bella hoped that she displayed the right combination of restless agitation. The combination that did not reveal her plans in any shape or form.

Quietly, her father sank back into the wooden seat, regarding her face speculatively.

She sighed in relief, opening the door and stepping over the threshold. "Thank you."

"Be careful," he murmured.

Bella closed the door quickly and hastily cleared the steps, catching the edge of a tall, clay pot to keep from tripping over. And then she was off again. Her mind was in a whirl of excitement. Adrenaline pumped into her veins, raising a high-fevered intensity to cloud her head and cause her to lose track of what she was doing. Idiotically, she dithered at the corner of the house. The few passerby that crossed her path eyed her curiously. She gave them a weak smile and made herself stop to think about what she was doing.

_Breathe, Bella_, a small voice in the back of her head commanded.

She obeyed. The voice continued, growing clearer. By now, she was pretty sure she was showing early signs of insanity, but she didn't actually care. The voice was helping her, after all.

_Go behind the alley of the Blacks' house and find your father's stallion. The grey one. _

"Transportation?" she whispered, feeling like a total loon. She tried to make her walk as casual as was possible for someone like her and rounded the corner to the cramped alleyway.

_The horse will cover far more ground in the forest, and you can't afford to lose time._

Reaching the stallion, Roger—named by Renee, when she had still lived with them—Bella began to doubt the helpful voice. She could hardly handle walking across any smooth surface herself. How on earth was she going to handle riding a full-grown _horse_? As a child, she'd been terrified of being trampled over by their steel-shoed hooves, and had never quite gotten over the time when Roger had snuck up behind her on laundry day.

She'd never tried to ride one.

And now here she was, foolishly attempting to ride one, all for the sake of her best friend.

"I know I'm being stupid," she muttered to the horse. Roger whickered at her in agreement, prodding at her hand with his nose and rolling his huge dark eyes at her. "And I'll probably get in trouble with your master, but you could at least cooperate!"

Bella swatted his head away nervously and tightened the saddle around his belly, recalling the rest of her father's dutiful checking. Dumbly, she looked up at Roger, who had begun to tug impatiently at the rope that tied him to a post.

"What do I do now?" she asked bleakly.

_You ride the creature, of course, _the voice snapped impatiently. _Foot in the stirrup and swing yourself on! You've seen this done a thousand times, Bella._

Roger whinnied, tossing his mane anxiously.

"Fine, I'll do it," she whispered furiously.

And without a second thought, Bella grabbed the pommel of the saddle and stuck her foot through the stirrup presented to her. Roger twisted his head around and nudged at her backside, causing her to jump and make her heart splutter erratically in her chest. It did the job, however. The jump brought her other leg around the saddle, and all she had to do was correct her posture. Scrabbling for the reins, Bella stopped, and smacked herself inwardly.

There, hung neatly on the horizontal bar, was the bit and bridle.

"Ugh," she hissed in disgust, one hand on Roger's mane, the other gripping the pommel. _What do I do now? I'm not dismounting, I'm wasting time, and—_

Releasing a sound between a gasp and a scream, Bella clung for dear life as Roger suddenly bolted through the alleyway, baying triumphantly.

They skidded across the rough cobblestones of the alley and charged through the adjoining thoroughfare, nearly running over the good citizens that promenaded idly along the bright street. Bella was nearly sick with fright as Roger, without warning, swerved to avoid a fruit vendor's cart, and then swerved again to avoid crashing into the wall. The world spun before her eyes as the streets flew by in a jolting manner. She could hardly even comprehend the rapid-fire, angry words that people barked at them ("_Vous imbécile! Vous regardez où vous allez!"_).

At some point during the mad rush, Bella managed to gather herself within and concentrate on her options. Obviously there were few, but she had to consider them anyway. Her grip briefly tightened on Roger's mane as he made a skidding turn into an empty street that circumnavigated the busy main boulevard. Roger tossed his head in an attempt to ease her hold on him, and she complied, tightening her legs around his belly instead. For a moment, it occurred to her that she was wearing a skirt. She shook off the blush that had begun to color her cheeks, and then transferred her thoughts to the horse that continued on in his driving gallop beneath her. Back in the alley, somehow, he'd managed to untie the rope that had bound him to the pole. Her father had always boasted proudly that his horse was the smartest creature around.

Bella tugged protestingly on Roger's creamy mane, and he slowed to a reasonable walk, flicking his eyes at her in what seemed like exasperation. Trembling as her muscles began to loosen, she righted herself on the saddle, shaking off the last bits of doubt that still clung to her.

"Let's see," she thought aloud. "Because of your impatience, we left without the bridle. Because of my idiocy, I forgot to pick it up, and therefore have no control over what you do."

Roger made a smug noise.

Sighing, Bella lightly prodded his sides with her heels and he complied with a trot that bordered on a canter. _No reins, no control. Well, I'll just have to trust that he's smart enough to know what he's doing. _

"Don't kill me," she told him, trying to be firm. A quaver lingered in her voice, but she plowed on. "We want to go into the forest. So I'm going to tug you in the direction that you need to go in, and you're going to try your best not to ram me into a tree branch with flesh-eating squirrels. _Comprenez?_"

From his silence, Bella took that he understood.

"Let's go, then," she muttered to herself, steering Roger to the right as he started into a more controllable gallop.

Hanging on once again to keep from falling over, Bella went on her way to the dark trees that loomed ever closer.

* * *

From far away, the forest looked perfectly harmless, its earthy greens and browns a softer contrast to the rough, mountainous landscape. With the sunlight trickling through its layering foliage, it appeared positively ideal for the avid explorer. 

But at a closer range, as Bella discovered, it gave off the undercurrent of a threat. She was sure that at any given moment, the gnarled and warped roots protruding from the soft moss would come alive and take hold of her. She would be dragged down into the ground where her family would never find her. At the same time, they held her mind in some sort of bizarre fascination. The trees were timeless—they must have witnessed so much. In a way, the knotted boughs signified how much wiser nature was…

Roger whickered softly, his ears pricked straight up in alert.

Bella's head then whipped around to the direction where Roger's wedge-shaped head pointed, fully expecting the whispered threat that took a toll on her sanity.

"Jacob?" Her voice sounded small and insignificant in her surroundings. There was a light rustling and then nothing.

Tension flowed into her once more and Roger plodded on through the forest, taking care to only take the path where sunshine dappled the ground. Bella felt Restlessness and its partner, Intuition, poke and prod at her in the back of her head, trying to tug her in a different path. She shifted around in the saddle and finally stopped when Roger halted mid-stride, looking cross. When his easy gait continued, she impulsively steered him to her left. He balked and flattened his ears against his head. Bella gritted her teeth and glared down at him.

"I thought we had a compromise," she scowled. He remained stubbornly silent. "Run up at least halfway and then go home, I won't care!"

Roger cocked his head to her for a moment, seeming to consider it. Again, Bella's wits scattered as he began to gallop fast and hard against the ground. She flattened herself against his back and waited for him to stop. They skidded to a halt in a clearing, and Bella had to shade her eyes to adjust to the burst of bright sunlight that blinded her and caused black spots to appear in her line of sight. When her vision cleared, her heart gave a leap and her breath caught in her throat.

Colorful sprays of wildflowers spread out along the expanse of green, adding a lovely addition to the otherwise austere forest. Blues, yellows, reds, and splashes of orange arranged themselves in delightful disorganization through the grass, and Bella could hardly believe that a sight like this would hide itself away from the world. Such splendor shouldn't have the right to exclude itself from being appreciated. Her eyes roamed, and her gaze finally landed on a set of graceful medieval arches, subtly obscured by two tall pines. The arches threw long shadows against the ivied walls of an abandoned battlement and deepened as they reached a narrow staircase…_that led to what?_ Bella knew she had to find out.

Her heart was beating in her mouth as she cautiously dismounted from Roger's back, leaving him to nibble at the grass to his heart's content. Bella had no further use of him from this point forward, as was likewise for him. She crossed the bright and merry clearing to the shaded lane across, glancing back only once and then going forward to the arches. They rose above her, the smooth, curved stone twined with morning glories that bloomed purple and pink against the periwinkle sky. The scuffing noise from her boots created the only sound in the heavy quiet. Bella could feel her inner self pleading with her to run back to the clearing, run back home and hope for Jacob's return, but she was firm in her resolve.

_This is all for Jacob, all for Jacob, all for Jacob. _She repeated the words in her mind like a mantra and continued down the steps that followed, wishing for a light to brighten the dark in the stone grotto that she found herself in. The walls seemed to go on and on in the gloom. Bella suddenly feared for Jacob. There was something not quite right about this place, and fear grappled with anger in her heart. If only Jacob hadn't gone wandering by himself, then maybe he might have—!

"Jacob? Answer me if you're here," she called out, daring herself to walk further in. Even to her own ears she sounded like she was begging. "Please? It's Bella…you can call me stupid, call me a fool, just give me some sort of sign that you're _here_.

"Your sister and dad are wringing themselves dry for losing you, and I don't think that's fair. Life isn't far, yes, sure. But this is getting out of hand. Angela warned you yesterday about this—okay, she warned _me_, but you could at least have gotten the point!" Bella kept herself babbling, if only to ward off the oncoming feeling of dread that had started to haunt her. She stayed close against the left wall, feeling and groping her way blindly through. She stifled a gasp upon hearing a noise somewhere—she couldn't pinpoint it, as it echoed through the stone.

Then she smothered a scream when a hand came around to clamp against her mouth, drawing her against a corner in the wall that she hadn't noticed before. She identified the new arrival as male.

"Be quiet!" the stranger hissed. His plea fell on deaf ears.

Bella, gathering all her strength, grabbed her captor's arms in a death grip and kicked out with her knee to the one spot where men hated to be kicked.

Her captor jumped away, cursing as he curled to the ground. Stunned, Bella clung against the wall behind her, breathing hard. "Who are you?" she asked, dazed. _Wow…it really hurt,_ she marveled. "I'll do it again, if you don't tell me!"

"Dammit, Bella, it's _me_!"

"Jacob!" she exclaimed, weak with joy and relief. "You're okay!"

Jacob groaned, swearing in strings as he bent knee to chin. He twisted his head to glower at her. "_Do I look okay?_"

Laughing weakly, Bella knelt before him, awkwardly patting his back as he turned away with a final, muttered obscenity that cursed someone's cousin and his neighbor's cat. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you. How could I? Jacob, why don't you ever _warn _me?" she asked in irritation.

Working to find his breath, Jacob inclined his head to her direction again. In the half-light, Bella could see that his grimy face was lined with sweat, his hair mussed, with a few bruises along his arm.

"What happened?" she asked in a low voice.

"Bella, it's complicated, dangerous, and I don't intend to discuss it here," he murmured.

"But—"

"Listen, could you untie the rope down there?" Jacob jerked his chin in the direction of his ankle. The thick rope was tied in a convoluted knot to an iron rod in the wall. "There's a knife in my pocket somewhere…here."

Bella took the knife between her trembling fingers and began to saw away at the rope. "What happened?" she repeated softly.

"I was getting ready to shoot down a pigeon, when I was surrounded by these huge growling…things. I can't describe them correctly. They were like bears, sharp fangs and all, but they looked more or less like wolves." He motioned for her to continue cutting him free when she stopped, gaping in disbelief. "And then, when things couldn't get any worse—"

"Jacob, it's too thick."

"Don't give up on this. Please, Bella, we need to get out of here," he begged. Bella found herself clutched in fright at seeing the blind desperation in his eyes.

Biting her lip, she continued on to hopelessly cut the rope. She concentrated on poking through the tightly wound strands, trying to find a way to loosen it at the very least, with Jacob's breathing slowly coming back to normal. Her body was numbed in her work.

With a shout and a clatter, Jacob jerked his leg away even as Bella began to protest. She froze in the motion of reaching for the knife, and felt a trickle of cold run down her spine at the smooth, velvety voice that nearly stopped her heart.

"Our conversation wasn't finished yet, and I can't risk letting you go either, now that you've joined as well."

Between Jacob's seething and the voice and presence somewhere behind her, Bella may as well have considered herself done.

* * *

**A/N: Wasn't that worth the wait, just to have a glimpse of Edward? No...don't answer that XD. Anyway, we all know that Edward's prone to overreaction, which was the reason for why he tied up Jacob in the first place. He truly needed to ask him something...without Jacob running off to spread superstition all over the village. **

**A****nd why hasn't Edward realized Bella's scent yet? Oh, _yes_ he has. You can ask me in a review, or wait until the next chapter where Bella finally turns around to see him. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Characters copyright Stephenie Meyer. But you all already knew that. **

**A/N: Originally, this chapter contained 13 - 14 pages on Word, but after later reflection, I realized that it was too much and cut it off at 11 pages. Hey, at least Chapter 6 is already under way with good progress :). Anyway, Chapter 5 is when you meet Jasper (Big YAY) and Alice (Bigger YAY!). **

**Of course they're all furniture. Now that that's out of the way...read, read, read. **__

**

* * *

**

_**Part II—Chapter 5: Superstitious?**_

"_It is the customary fate of new truths to begin as heresies, and to end as superstitions." – Thomas Henry Huxley _

_-18__th__ Century France-_

Bella thought of herself as odd.

Jacob declared her as just missing the mark of insane.

But now, faced with a situation that looked as if it were life-and-death, she was surprised to feel…nothing. She'd expected hysterics, even curling up into a ball and praying to die, but not the calm and numbness that washed through her. At seeing Jacob's confusion-saturated expression, she quickly scrambled over to his side at squinted at the light held aloft until her eyes focused on the figure that held it. But even then his face wasn't distinguishable.

"Untie me," Jacob muttered to Bella in a low tone. "Maybe he can't see that clearly."

"My vision is fine, thank you," the melodic voice went on, this time, with a trace of amusement.

"Do it!" Bella jerked herself away from her reverie when Jacob prodded her in the ribs, just in time to realize that she had been staring shamelessly at the new arrival. There was just something about him that made her want to edge closer. Yet, there was another force that pulled her back, left her at a standstill, with nothing else to do but cut the rope and make a run from the two opposing forces that held her.

"Aren't you going to stop us?" Jacob shot back at the immobile figure.

There was a meaningful pause in which Bella could feel eyes watching her every movement, however minute.

"Easily. From what I've gathered, your friend wouldn't last a second in trying to run. And once she's unable to go, without doubt you won't be going anywhere.

"And how odd," he continued, perplexed. "Is her mind always this…barren?"

"Excuse me," Bella huffed. She narrowed her eyes, sat back, and crossed her arms, careful to leave the knife at her knees in case she injured herself. _Barren? _She was practically in a hostage situation—how could her mind possibly be barren?

"Anyway," the velvety voice went on, ignoring Bella, in the same maddeningly placid tone. "I'm afraid I wasn't the one who tied you up."

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you see me physically tie you?"

"No, but it was dark!"

Bella abandoned the knife uncertainly at the sharpness Jacob's words. She now had the vague suspicion that her friend's earlier entreaties had been an act. Or was she just confused? She couldn't tell.

The person opposite them cleared his throat and stepped forward from beneath the shadow of the torch's flame, placing it in its holder in a single fluid movement. Jacob sat up and Bella heard herself gasp. No, she had to be mistaken. Her mind scrambled in a desperate act to pull the events into something more believable. She came to only one possible answer: she'd somehow popped off and gone to heaven…or hell, depending on the interpretation. The face of the being that stood before them switched to wariness.

_At least it was painless,_ she thought, _and at least I was able to meet an angel. _

"Well, are you going to answer me or not?" Jacob prompted.

"Jake, I don't think he did it," Bella said, her throat dry. She wouldn't meet the look of incredulity he shot her.

"Are you seriously considering that he's innocent?"

"No." She hesitated, and finished lamely, "I just don't think he was responsible."

"You're unbelievable," he muttered furiously. "What, then, if he didn't do it? A ghost? For heaven's sake, Bella—"

"Bella." She turned in surprise at being addressed to. Her heart escalated as she struggled to fight the heat that surged into her cheeks at hearing the angel speak her name. His strangely beautiful golden eyes watched her curiously. "Why don't you believe me capable of lashing your friend to this godforsaken dungeon?"

"Because," she began before Jacob could cut in, "it isn't in a servant of God's nature to do such harm to a mere mortal."

Jacob snorted in disbelief. _Are you for _real? He mouthed. Bella ignored him.

"Let's say that's true. But what if I wasn't, as you say, a 'servant of God'?"

She ventured a smile, startled at feeling the odd sense of relief at his words. "What's your name?"

The angel's expression now switched to astonishment that questioned her sanity. He slowly shook his head. "Now I see why Jacob doesn't trust you to be by yourself. You're unbelievable."

Jacob started. "Wait, how did you know my—?"

"You forgot to answer my question," Bella pressed. She couldn't determine the source of her fascination; only let it get the better of her. Who cared how he knew Jake's name? She must have said it during their conversation.

His brow furrowed in frustration, and for a moment she wondered if she'd gone too far. "Edward," he said at length. "Edward Cullen."

"What _I'd _like to know, is why I'm tied down here like a dog. Care to elaborate on that?" Jacob interjected frostily.

"You're down here for a reason," Edward reminded him. "But I didn't tie you. You _did_ agree to remain down here for ten or so minutes so I could speak to you." Bella couldn't stop repeating his name over and over in her mind, rolling it around to make it more familiar to her lips.

"That was until I was tied."

"We're not finished yet."

"So who did it?" Jacob countered. "Do you teach mice to tie knots?"

Bella watched the scene, and then Edward's face as it stilled in concentration. After a second, he muttered a curse, glanced in her direction apologetically, and relaxed. She sensed that there was amusement behind his appearance; the light that danced in his eyes was a giveaway.

"I apologize for that," he said formally, "and I personally know who did it." The corners of his mouth twitched.

"And?" Jacob said impatiently. "Just tell me, and you can ask whatever bull you want."

"I'll tell you, after the interrogation."

"Why after? Right now's fine with me."

"Because I know you won't believe me until after I ask the one question and explain."

Bella exchanged a look with Jacob, perplexed. It had to be something important, not just a mere whim.

"What makes you think I won't believe you on whoever did it?"

Edward offered a humorless smile. "Oh, I've had plenty of time to decide whether you would believe or not during the course of this conversation. Shall I begin?" He made a gesture as though asking permission.

Jacob caught Bella's eye, and she saw the familiar look of consternation on his features that came whenever she was in danger of getting run over by a cart, a stampede, or her sisters. She could already hear the words that he would say before they were out of his mouth. "I'd like you to stay out of here until it's over," he told her.

She was prepared. "I'll stay with you."

"Go wait somewhere at the entrance."

"And be bored to tears watching the flowers wilt? I don't think so," she objected.

"Now isn't the time to be difficult!" he hissed.

"I want to hear what he has to say, too. I came all this way just to find you, don't you know that?"

"No," Edward said decisively; Bella looked to see him eying them thoughtfully. Hope that he would take her side of the argument made her hold her breath. "No, you shouldn't stay to hear, regardless of the situation. This isn't something you should be _permitted _to hear."

She released her breath in a huff, and glowered at the smirk that came onto Jacob's face.

"However, I don't think you should stay at the entrance either," he continued.

The smirk faded slightly from Jacob's face, and Bella brightened.

"Well, where else is there?" Jacob asked.

"The castle."

Bella sat up straighter, and blinked at seeing him shoot a half-smile in her direction. "The castle?" she repeated dumbly.

"It's perfectly safe. There's a direct entrance to the parlor through there, so that she won't have to leave for the front hall," he added, seeing that Jacob had every intention of interrupting. Bella saw her friend struggle to find an argument, and then at last shrug, seeing nothing wrong with it.

"As long as she won't break any bones, it's fine."

"Just go straight, make a right turn, and open the door. There'll be someone to meet you at the table at the end of the corridor."

Rising carefully from where she sat, Bella looked down at her now soiled apron and dress, sighing inwardly; she certainly wasn't going to get any points from the housekeeper, whom she assumed would be the person she would meet. She glanced back at the scene as she reluctantly made her way to the door. Edward stood with his back to her, appearing to be making small talk with Jacob until she completely was out of sight. Undoubtedly they would be listening until she'd gone in.

She stopped at the door and considered pretending to have entered. _It wouldn't work_, she finally thought, preventing herself from looking back as she opened the wooden door and felt the light sound of marble beneath her feet.

* * *

She'd been expecting spacious grandeur upon entering, but remembering that it was supposed to be just a parlor brought her back down to earth. 

It was small, but not cramped, and delightfully cozy. A fire was burning in the hearth and tea was readily served on the delicate coffee table by the fireplace. The room itself was attired in a welcoming fashion, and, as Bella noticed the artfully crafted vase beside her, with a feminine touch. There was definitely a housekeeper; and she'd done the job of making the place so horribly _clean_.

Pausing on her way into the room, she remembered what she'd been told and took a step back. On the table, a tiny silver bell waited patiently on its tray. It was created in the shape of a girl, the bodice and head forming the handle, the ornate skirt forming the cup. Glancing around, Bella wondered if she would have to ring for the housekeeper; that was the purpose of the bell, wasn't it?

Without further hesitation, she reached forward and began to ring it.

"Hey—! Watch it, I—"

Shock flooded Bella and she stood frozen, her arm still poised over the table. _No—bells can't talk!_ Her head rang with the musical sound of the bell, and she waited to see if she would be proved wrong. When she wasn't, she continued to ring it. For a moment, she thought she'd lost her sanity.

Amongst the angelic chiming was a series of muffled shouts.

Feeing slightly foolish, Bella moved her thumb away from the head, holding the bell gingerly over the tiny table. Her head was foggy as it continued to berate her.

"It's very rude, you know, to cover one's head with such an enormously large thumb! Well, they never used to be large…and never so offending before…ah, never mind."

Bella stared numbly at the tiny bell she held, unable of forming one coherent thought. When she finally did, the bell had begun idly humming a tune, and she could only say faintly, "It's either you're actually speaking, or I've gone and lost it."

The bell stopped mid-note and appeared to look at her kindly. "It'd be a dreadful shame if you've gone and lost it, but in this case, you haven't. Congratulations! My name is Alice. Now…would you put me down?"

Placing the bell gently in its tray, Bella stepped back acquiescently and folded her hands over her skirt as she went through the logic. Against all the laws in nature, an inanimate thing had spoken on its own volition. Against all the laws in nature, she, Bella Swan, was going to choose to believe in talking silver bells.

It was fitting.

Alice, as the bell had introduced herself, daintily hopped over the rim of the tray to the edge of the table. A light, twinkling of noise followed everywhere she moved. The sound was a reminder to Bella that everything was real.

"Now that I've done what my brother has told you I would do, let's go tour the castle!"

Bella awoke from her daze and did a double-take. "Alice? Alice _Cullen_?"

Alice laughed, a sweet melody that intertwined with the bell's notes. "You sound shocked and delighted—am I famous?"

"No, it's just that…how can a bell play sister to a human being?"

The miniature silver figure before her gazed up thoughtfully. She replied slowly, "I wasn't always in _this _form. And Edward…he's very convincing in what he does, isn't he?"

"Er…yes." Bella stopped herself from asking anymore about him. "So you used to be human?"

"At one point."

"I'm curious…how did you become a bell?" she asked, intrigued. Alice made a tiny movement as if to indicate her hand and hopped onto the palm that Bella offered.

"Let's start walking."

"Um, to where?"

"The library; keep going down the hall and then you'll have to go up the stairs."

Bella complied and made her way into a larger corridor, the highlights occasionally being pointed out to her and given commentary. She would nod and make a complimentary comment, even as she anticipated for when her question would be answered. Meanwhile, she enjoyed the sights that were presented to her. Everything flowed seamlessly into a grand scheme of some sort, tastefully decorated, but never overwhelming. Even the smallest places were able to breathe air. Passing by a window, they paused to admire the landscape, and then moved on. When Bella made a move for the main hall, Alice stopped her and pointed for a narrow, out of the way stairwell instead.

"Why not the main staircase?"

"We're not permitted," Alice answered as though stating a fact.

Taking a final glance, Bella turned into the direction indicated before her and the commentary resumed.

"You'll absolutely _adore_ the guest bedroom by the landing—in fact, I know you will. It's stocked up with gorgeous clothes handpicked by me and Esme." Alice stopped herself and continued wryly, "Not that we have any guests. Not usually."

Bella peeked into the room at reaching the top of the stairs and found herself charmed by the innocence that designed the room. It was arranged to center the large window that brought most of the light into the room. She would have thought it to belong to a princess—except royalty nowadays moved into towns closer to the capital.

"Esme? Is she…uh, like," Bella looked down at Alice, embarrassed for her own ignorance. Alice smiled graciously.

"Oh, we're all furniture," she said candidly. "Except for Edward, of course. Speaking of talking furniture, why aren't you more surprised? You're taking it all so…calmly."

"I've got an open mind," Bella replied, wrinkling her nose and trying to remember why the words were so familiar.

"A _very_ open mind. Practically open space, rather than a room."

"I hope you're not talking about it being barren like your brother."

Alice glanced up inquiringly, emitting the sound of chimes. "Barren? Impossible."

Bella shrugged, and then remembered the latter end of the conversation below. "Alice," she ventured, "do you know who tied my friend, Jacob?"

"Oh, yes." Alice smiled mischievously.

"Please tell me it wasn't you."

Shaking her head with a smirk, Alice motioned for her to stop, pointing at the set of double doors in front of them. They were a rich, dark mahogany, the brass handles shaped in the form of roses. Bella twisted the knob and pushed one of the doors open to be admitted into one of the spacious rooms she'd expected to see.

Three walls were lined with nothing but books, all the way up to the ceiling. The fourth wall was pierced by a series of long windows, each trailed by red velvet drapes. Comfortable chairs were placed around the room, surrounding either of the two large tables or lined up against the wall. A tall, graceful rolling ladder waited before one of the bookcases, ready for service.

Bella wandered as far as the first table in the room, staring wonderingly at all the books that surrounded her. This was definitely better than the shop in town. She considered asking Alice if she would be allowed to borrow one—there had to be _something_ in the room that she hadn't read yet. Involuntarily, she looked down at her palm, even when her ears were alerted by Alice's move down the table's length; she was headed purposefully to a thick volume opened beside a candelabra.

"Come on, Bella. Jasper isn't going to bite." For some strange unknown reason, Alice found hilarity in the sentence. Bella trailed after her, looking down into the volume as she stopped at the end. She looked up at Alice bemusedly.

"Montaigne?"

"Certainly, but it's not something I'd choose to read for pleasure."

"That's my forte," clarified the candelabra for the first time, turning away from the book. "Jasper Hale."

"Bella. Pleasure to meet you," Bella smiled tentatively as she inclined her head. As soon as she met the sight of Jasper, she immediately felt more at ease.

"We were wondering if you could take out that one little fairytale? The one that Edward finds as, to quote, 'an ironic farce of a story'," Alice added.

In answer, Jasper pushed off the heavy book to reveal a thinner hardback, swiftly flipping it to the beginning. Instantly, Bella's mind clicked at the familiar wording. She bent over the page, glancing up every other moment to take in Jasper and Alice's reactions. They remained composed. She turned to the next page and read over the passage where the people of the castle were transformed, marveling at how it was all fact—all real.

All except for one detail.

"Wait, who's the monster?" she asked, frowning.

The two in front of her exchanged a glance. Jasper said dryly, "Human beings are gifted in the way of forming truths into tall tales."

"Like I said before, almost all of us are furniture in this place," Alice added. "And for all we know, Edward likes to think of himself as a monster."

"Edward?" Bella felt like laughing. "Preposterous." He was the absolute last person he would consider as the monster depicted in the story. He didn't even have the advantage of being hideous.

Jasper came forward and shut the book, standing on the cover for better elevation. He stared at Bella hard, and she got the impression that it was no laughing matter. "Bella, how much do you know about us?"

She gazed at them both, measuring their expressions. "Not enough?"

"Out of ignorance or wisdom, I'd like to believe it's wisdom. But you're right; that fairytale dressed up every last strip of truth—fortunately for us," he added hastily.

"We don't want to be discovered," Alice explained.

"I can see why," Bella murmured. "So what _should_ I believe from the book itself?"

Both of them stared back at her as though she'd just asked a rhetorical question.

"We've established that you're real already!"

"Bella, are you superstitious?"

She smiled deprecatingly. "Isn't everyone in this day and age?"

"Maybe that was the wrong question." Alice tilted her delicate head to the ceiling and asked instead, "What do you think of mythical creatures? Witches…fairies…vampires…"

"I—"

"ALICE!! COME DOWN HERE _NOW_!"

Bella flinched back at the terrifying roar that seemed to have come from the stairwell down the corridor. Realizing that she'd moved behind Jasper, she sheepishly moved back in front of them.

"Wrong question, eh, Alice?" Jasper teased, hopping off the book and moving down the length of the table.

Bella extended her palm as Alice, with all her dignity, hopped on. She looked sideways at Bella, who was only just recovering her poise.

"Do you think he's a monster yet?"

She hesitated briefly. "He isn't _precisely_ human, then?" she chose to say, referring back to the book.

Alice continued to look up at her, patiently waiting for an answer. Bella sighed.

"No, not quite," she admitted in a small voice. "Why won't you just explain everything?"

Rather than giving a direct response, Alice shrugged, grinned, and urged her down the carpeted corridor after Jasper. Only when Bella stepped on the stairs was she given a rough equivalent of an answer.

"Edward will explain to you."

Bella looked at Alice skeptically; from the sound of his voice and from the way that he chose to exclude her from Jacob's predicament (which was, by default, hers also), she really doubted that he would explain much of anything. Alice, peeking up to see her face, sighed. Bella stepped off the stairs and began to make her way back to the parlor, but instead was tugged into a different direction. She looked down into the dim, narrow hallway and back at Alice questioningly.

"It's a shortcut to the parlor," Alice informed.

Rolling her eyes as she moved forward, Bella said in exasperation, "Why didn't we just go this way for the library?"

"You don't see a lot through here, and I thought we were taking a tour."

"Alice," Bella sighed.

"It was enjoyable!" Alice persisted gaily. "Wasn't it?"

"I guess so."

As soon as they reached the end of the passageway, Bella found that their way was blocked by a wall hanging. She moved it aside and cautiously stepped down from the slight elevation. She examined the room again.

The drapes of one of the windows had been pulled back, the shutters open to air out the room. The fire was extinguished.

And Jacob was seated at one of the chairs, gingerly holding his teacup. Edward was nowhere in sight.

"Jacob! How did it go?" Bella asked, placing Alice on the tea table. Alice, playing the part of inanimate object, became still.

Jacob sipped at the tea and narrowed his eyes at the bottom of the cup. He glanced up at her, looking pointedly at the sugar. Bella moved forward to hand it to him, earning her a polite smile and a nod. His expression was of deep concentration. "Fine."

"What did he tell you?" she pressed, seeing that Alice's attention was fixed upon the main corridor. Edward would be arriving any second.

"That they—those old stories—they're real." He swallowed and casually poured himself another cup.

"That's it?" Bella felt disappointed.

Jacob watched her for a moment and looked down into the tea. "Bella, we're in a mess, you know that? He's gone to renegotiate with the wolves again."

"What?" she asked, bewildered.

"We're not done here yet. Anyway, pretty large place, huh?" he gestured to the room.

"It's great. Listen, they have this library…"

"Oh, of _course_ you choose to start with that. Why didn't you go to the kitchen?"

Edward entered into the room then, thoughtful.

A breeze flowed through the window situated behind Bella, who heard a tiny squeak emit from Alice. She looked up again to see Edward's expression completely changed.

His eyes were pitch black, jaw restraining, fists clenched hard against his sides.

Everything happened quickly; Jacob was instantly at her side, the teacup dropped and shattered to the floor, the window slammed shut by Jasper on the table. The room rang with Alice's strident peals.

Edward turned his head away and moved back down the corridor, away from the scene.

"Jacob?" Bella whispered, barely daring to breathe in the sudden quiet of the room.

"Werewolves and vampires." Jacob chuckled harshly in her ear. "Just an everyday issue, you know? Leave it to you to get mixed up in all this."

* * *

**A/N: Umm-hmm. I had to let Jacob have the last word, after all he's been through **-shakes head in pity-. **This chapter had a lot of revisions, especially at the beginning where Jacob's tied to the dungeon. Edward kept making such a strident argument about having not done anything wrong, that I had to believe him and change around that part. **

**Oh, right! Answer to last chapter's question:::: Edward didn't have such a viciously strong reaction to Bella in the dungeon because there was no flowing air below ground to blow her scent in his direction. **


End file.
